


The Tale of Mr. Morton (That Mr. Morton Wrote)

by TeaRoses



Category: Schoolhouse Rock
Genre: F/M, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 17:57:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaRoses/pseuds/TeaRoses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Morton was supposed to be writing ad copy, but of course his mind was always on Pearl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tale of Mr. Morton (That Mr. Morton Wrote)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jedi_penguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedi_penguin/gifts).



> Thank you very much to my beta. Any mistakes are my own.

Mr. Morton sat in front of his typewriter. Mr. Morton sat. He was supposed to be writing ad copy again, but it was so hard to concentrate on the good qualities of dishwashing liquid with Pearl right there, in his living room -- on his actual _couch_ \-- reading a book. It had been a whole month since they were married, but he still couldn't really believe it.

Every now and then he'd still run in there just to look at her, so he could appreciate that she was right there with him. And every now and then Pearl would run into this room and kiss him on the back of his neck. For some reason she thought the back of his neck was very cute, which he appreciated since she saw it pretty often as he bent over his typewriter.

 _The bubbles washed the dishes. The bubbles washed..._

No, he just couldn't do it.

In half an hour he would have to get up and make dinner. It was his turn tonight, and Pearl would do the dishes. Or they would do them together and make jokes about how terrible the dishwashing liquid really was. And then she would snap him with the dishtowel and he would laugh. Pearl was funnier than he was, and would probably write better ad copy too, but she was happiest at her teaching job.

He tried again to concentrate on sparkling dishes, but for now his attention was straying. He began to type something that was not ad copy at all.

 _When John Morton came home that day, his wife Pearl was missing. She wasn't waiting for him by the window; she wasn't in the bedroom resting. She was simply... gone._

Now he was scaring himself. Pearl would never really be gone, would she? She loved the cat too much, and he hoped dearly she loved him too. After all, she said she did, and he had never known Pearl to lie.

He kept typing.

 _John looked everywhere. John looked, but he couldn't find Pearl, and she hadn't left a note. What would he do? Finally he realized the only possibility. He would read Pearl's diary. John knew that was wrong, but the time had come for desperate measures._

Of course he, the real John Morton, would never touch Pearl's things. And he didn't need to. She already told him funny stories about the kids in her class at work, and all about growing up and bossing her younger brothers around.

 _John was shocked at what he read. John was. Pearl was gone... looking for the lost Mirror of Moriston diamond! His Pearl was an international jewel thief. Who could have imagined that?_

Would an international jewel thief really leave that information lying around where anyone could see it? Probably not. And would Pearl really steal anything? Well, no, not even if it wouldn't hurt anyone. But she was so smart, and would look so sweet in one of those black outfits jewel thieves were always wearing on television. And Pearl was the perfect name for a jewel thief, after all. He laughed a bit at that and decided to stick with this idea.

 _John set out to find Pearl. The lost Mirror of Moriston diamond was rumored to be downtown in the Central Building, on the top floor._

Now wait... if it was in the Central Building then why was it lost? This was making less and less sense. But he didn't have time to let fictional John Morton seach the entire world for Pearl. Although he would! Oh yes, John would stop at nothing.

 _John got into his car. He drove to the Central Building at top speed._

Of course he, the real John Morton, could not drive. They had even taken the bus to their honeymoon cottage, cuddled up together in one of the back seats with the cat. Everyone else on the bus smiled at them and wished them well, because it was so obvious they'd just gotten married, and not just from the sign on the back.

But John Morton drove in the story. Mr. Morton drove, because it would be a bit ridiculous for him to be waiting at the bus stop with his Pearl in trouble.

 _Soon he was at the Central Building. He pushed past the security guard and ran up the stairs._

Hmmm... The real John Morton wasn't in such great shape. He usually took the elevator, and a real security guard would catch up with him right away. But this John Morton was a different story. The fictional John Morton looked like the movie stars they sometimes looked at on television. He was tall, and handsome, and muscular.

Of course Pearl always told him that she liked him much better than those movie stars. And he believed her, because Pearl could certainly have had a movie star if she had wanted one. She was so funny and kind and always had a story to tell. No man could ever want anyone better. And Pearl was so pretty. Pearl was.

 _John jumped into the room. It was the evil criminal mastermind, Frederick Badlands. He had Pearl tied to a chair, and she looked at John pleadingly._

Okay, he had finally gone too far with that one.

 _Pearl glared at Frederick fiercely. John could see scratches all over Frederick's face and arms where Pearl had fought him._

Well, that was a little gross, wasn't it. But Pearl would do just that.

 _"How could you do this to the woman I love," John shouted. He jumped and pinned Frederick Badlands to the floor, knocking the man out cold._

Yes, the fictional John Morton really was like a movie star. Though Frederick Badlands wasn't much of an evil mastermind if that was the best he could do. But John wasn't worried about that. He just wanted to get to the best part of the story.

 _John untied Pearl and swept her up in his arms, giving her a long lingering kiss._

 _"Am I your hero?" he asked her in his deep movie-star voice._

 _"You're always my hero, John," she replied. "You are."_

The real Mr. Morton pushed himself away from the typewriter and walked to where Pearl sat in the living room.

"Say, Pearl, may I..." he trailed off.

"May you what, John?" Pearl asked, shutting her book and looking at him curiously.

"May I kiss you?"

Pearl raised her eyebrows. "You know the answer to that, John." As she held her arms out to him, she asked, "Are you going to show me all that ad copy you've been typing in there?"

He shook his head. "Maybe someday."

And Mr. Morton kissed.


End file.
